Spirit of a Dead Lover
by Authorgirl12
Summary: Goby is convinced that the death of his only love is his fault, but when she comes back and takes him on a little journey, he might end up thinking different... DOBY ONESHOT.


It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, and the birds were tweeting happily. The sound of children laughing and playing outside rang in Goby's ears as he stared blankly at the ceiling. Tears were welling up in his eyes, and he didn't even bother trying to hold them back. All of those happy things should've cheered him up, but they just made him feel worse. He felt as if all of that happiness was taunting him; bragging about how much better everyone else's lives were. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

After the funeral, he locked himself in his room, and never came out. Because of the fact that he now lived alone, nobody seemed to notice his disappearance. If it hadn't been for him, she would still be here. She would still be alive. The last words that she'd ever said to him buzzed in his ears like a swarm of angry bees.

"I HATE YOU. I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN."

And she got what she'd wanted. She got more than what she'd wanted. She never saw ANYONE ever again... and it was Goby's fault. He could still see her beautiful blue eyes in his mind, almost as if she was still there. But she wasn't.

The fight they'd had that night was unbearable to think about. He did something stupid, and she got mad. She'd yanked the ring off of her finger, threw it at him and screamed in his face, all while he tried desperately to apologize. But it wasn't enough. She'd stormed off, and right into the street. Into the street and to her death. He still wore the ring on a chain around his neck.

By nightfall, he hadn't moved an inch. Nothing mattered to him anymore. He laid on the left side of the bed, the right side being now abandoned and empty. He needed sleep. Sleep was his only escape from the pain.

"I wish I had never been born." He whispered to himself, slowly closing his eyes, "If I'd never been born, then she would still be here. And I wouldn't have been able to ruin her life."

"Don't you say that."

He jolted up in bed and quickly scanned the room. There was no one to be seen. He was alone. Was he hearing voices? Was this grief finally driving him insane?

"You're not insane." The distinctly female voice said, as if reading his mind.

His first instinct was to grab the baseball bat that was propped against his night stand, but there was something in the back of his mind that told him not to do so.

"Who are you?" He asked, then almost immediately changed his question, "And WHERE are you?"

"You know who I am." She told him, still not showing herself, "I'm the cause of this depression that you've been thrown into."

For a horrible moment, Goby thought the voice that he was hearing was the voice of death, and that it was there to take him away. But almost as fast as that thought had come, a realization dawned on him; he had heard this voice many times before. It was a voice that he knew and loved. It was a voice that he thought he would never hear again.

"Deema?"

There was suddenly a shimmering light in the center of the room, and the figure of a female appeared before him.

"It took you long enough, silly."

Her beautiful blonde locks cascaded in curls around her shoulders and down her back. Her amazing blue eyes seemed brighter than ever. She wore a flowing white dress, identical to the one that her corpse had worn at the funeral. The one that she'd been buried in. Why was it that people looked 10 times more beautiful when they were dead?

Goby was speechless. He couldn't seem to process any form of thought besides that he must've been dreaming. There was no way that she was standing there right before his eyes. No way.

"What...how...but..." was just about all he could manage to get out.

"You're not dreaming." She smiled warmly, once again reading his thoughts, "I'm really here."

"But...you're dead." He urged, struggling to fight back his tears at the sight of his love.

"I know that." She laughed as if dying was an everyday thing for her, "But I'm not here for me. I'm here for you."

He just stared at her, still not comprehending what he was seeing.

"You say you wish you were never born?" She continued, walking -more like floating or gliding- to his side of the bed. Her hair and dress flowed as she moved, as if she were outside on a windy day, "If that wish were to come true, I don't think you'd like the outcome."

"What do you mean?" He asked, quaking as the sadness of her presence began to overtake him.

She held out her hand for him to take, and smiled, "I'll show you."

He stared at her hand uneasily for a few moments, then looked back at her, "Where are you going to take me?"

"Just trust me." She assured him, "I promise it'll be alright."

He stared at her for another second, before coming to a decision, "I trust you."

He reached out and took her hand, and a horrible wave of sadness washed over him when he realized that he couldn't feel her. He was touching her, but he couldn't feel her. This made him long for her even more.

He was startled as the scene shifted, and the two of them were suddenly standing in a dark hallway. It didn't take long for him to realize that this was the hallway in the house that he grew up in.

"Why did you take me here?" He asked Deema, but she just nodded toward the end of the hall.

"Just watch."

They slowly walked until two large men came into few. They were standing in front of the hall closet, both armed with guns so big Goby wasn't sure if he'd be able to hold one of them on his own.

"What's the combination?!" One man yelled, pointing his gun at whoever was in the closet.

There was the sound of a woman sobbing, and when Goby peered around the men, he gasped at what he saw.

Sitting on the floor with her arms and legs bound was his mother, quaking in fear and sobbing in pain.

"Mom!" He yelled as loud as he could, but they did not react. He tried to run to her aid, only to find that he was stuck in place.

"They can't hear you." Deema informed him, "You are simply not here."

His mother choked back a sob as she glared up at the two men, "7224."

"You better not be lying, woman!" The first man barked as he trotted into the master bedroom and out of sight. The safe. They were after his parents' safe.

The second man kept his gun pointed at the poor female, not saying a word.

"Please. Spare me." She pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

The man just shook his head shamefully, and pressed the barrel of his gun to her forehead.

"NO!" Goby screamed, but he was too late.

The man pulled the trigger.

Goby began sobbing in horror as the man shoved his mother's body further into the closet, closed the door, then strolled into the master bedroom to aid his partner.

"Why are you showing this to me?!" Goby screamed in Deema's face, but she didn't seem phased.

"When your mom was pregnant with you," she began to explain, "she was robbed. When they threatened to kill her, she begged for mercy, telling them that she was pregnant. Because of this, they spared her life."

"So what did I just watch?!" He exclaimed, tears still rolling down his cheeks.

"This is what would've happened if she wasn't pregnant with you." Deema answered simply, not making eye contact with him.

"So I saved my mother's life even before I was born?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"Let's move on, shall we?" She said, not bothering to answer his question. She held out her hand for him to take. He didn't want to take it, because he knew that she was just going to show him another horrible thing. But it wasn't like he had a choice. He didn't want to stay there with his mother's dead body forever. Wherever she would take him next had to have been better. It had do.

He sighed and grabbed onto her hand, once again not being able to feel her touch. The scene shifted, and Goby found himself standing on a dark sidewalk on a bridge. It was drizzling, but he couldn't feel the drops on his skin. Like Deema had said: they simply weren't there.

That's when he realized that Deema literally wasn't there. He was once again alone. He spun around, searching for her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Deema?!" He called out. There was no reply. Had she left him? What if she'd never been there in the first place? What if he'd just been wandering the streets like an idiot and not even realizing what he was doing? Maybe he was going insane after all...

That's when he heard the screams. He spun on his heel to see just who he'd been looking for. She was struggling, for a man had thrown his arms around her and was forcing her towards a dark van that was pulled over not far from them.

Goby tried to run to her, but he was stuck in his place, just like when he'd tried to save his mom.

"HEY."

At first, Goby had thought that he was the one who said this, but when the man froze and looked behind him, he realized that there was someone else in their presence.

The man pulled a pocket knife out of his jeans pocket and flicked it open. Goby tried to scream, but his voice was gone. He was useless.

The man raised the knife into the air, and drove it into Deema's chest with all of his strength. She wailed in agony as he threw her to the ground, and made a beeline for his van. As he sped off, four other people ran to Deema's aid, just a little too late. Goby would recognize those people anywhere. Two boys, and two girls. The people that he knew as his best friends.

"I told you something was going to happen!" Molly screamed at the others, "I knew we should've gone with her!"

"What do we do?!" Oona sobbed, not daring to get any closer to her injured friend.

Nonny -being the only one who seemed to be able to think straight in that moment of terror- kneeled next to Deema, pulled his jacket off, and pressed it onto Deema's wound. I remembered this technique. He'd taught it to us a million times before; always apply pressure to bleeding wounds.

The other three just stared at him in horror, not seeming to know what to do.

He looked up at them, taking the lead in the situation, "Don't just stand there! Call 911!"

Gil blinked and came out of his state of shock. He whipped his phone out of his pocket, punched in three numbers, and held it up to his ear, waiting while it rang.

Molly kneeled on the other side of Deema, and cradled her in her arms, so that she was propped up while Nonny applied pressure to her bleeding chest.

"It hurts..." Deema muttered, staring up into the night sky, a tear streaming down her cheek.

"I know, just hang on, okay?" Molly assured her, struggling to fight back her own tears, "Help is on the way."

Gil was pacing back and forth like a mad man, speaking at top speed into his phone, choking back sobs as he did. Oona just stood frozen in her spot, literally paralyzed in fear. There was no use in screaming, for there was no sign of human life anywhere around them.

"Deema, focus on Molly." Nonny told her, "Focus on her words and don't look away from her eyes."

"Molly..." Deema mumbled almost incoherently.

"Yes, Molly." Molly nodded, placing her hand on Deema's cheek, "Stay with us. Don't let your eyes close. Focus on everything around you. Everything's going to be alright."

Goby was so focused on everything that was happening, that he didn't even notice exactly what he was looking at. Yes, these were his friends, but not the friends that he was used to seeing. They were younger. Much younger. Probably around 12 or 13 years old. They were still in the past.

"I can't..." Deema whispered, "I'm sorry..."

"Deema, don't give up on us." Nonny pleaded, his voice quaking and wavering. He was trying harder than anyone there not to cry, yet tears were slipping from his eyes.

Deema was silent. She stared blankly into the sky, her eyes seeming a thousand miles away. All of the color had drained from her skin, and she laid limp in Molly's arms.

Oona let out a sob as silence filled the air. The phone dropped out of Gil's hand, cracking the screen as it hit the concrete. Nonny's arms dropped to his sides, every last bit of pigment draining from his face.

Deema was gone. And she wasn't coming back.

"See?"

Goby spun around, suddenly no longer frozen in his spot. Behind him stood Deema. Not the Deema that had just been brutally murdered right before his eyes, but the other one. The spirit that had been showing him the most horrible scenes that he'd ever seen in his life.

"Why are you doing this to me?" He asked her, "Am I being punished?"

"I showed this to you to show you that my death was not your fault." She informed him, coming up to stand beside him, "If it wasn't for you, I would've died much earlier."

"What does all of this have to do with me?" He asked, not sure how much more he could take.

"Remember that night in, 7th grade?" She asked, tilting her head to the side, "When we went bowling with all of our friends? And when I went to walk home by myself, you insisted on coming with me?"

He slowly nodded, starting to understand what she was getting at.

"This is what would've happened if you hadn't been there." She explained, "In real life, that man just passed us up, not even daring to take on the both of us. But if we take you out of the equation..."

She glanced over at the frozen image of their friends, the horrible grief on all of their faces. Goby didn't want that for them.

"How many people have to die because of me?" He asked, closing his eyes and wiping the tears from his face.

"I would've died young, with or without you." She said sternly, "All you did was extend my life by ten years. And I thank you for that."

"I've seen enough." He pleaded, "Just please, take me back home. I can't take any more of this."

"I'm not done, yet." She smiled, holding out her hand, "Come. I have one more thing to show you."

He sighed, "If that means getting home sooner, then I'm down."

He grabbed onto her hand, and just like the last two times, the scene changed. This time, the scene had a different atmosphere. They were in a house that Goby didn't recognize, and the sound of running water filled the strange silence around them.

"Where are we?" Goby asked, but Deema just stood back and nodded towards the hallway.

"See for yourself."

After an uneasy moment, he turned and headed into the hall. There was a room at the end of the hall, being the only room with the lights on. The door sat open, and water flooded into the hallway. Goby advanced forward, his feet swishing in the water. He peered into the lit room, and held back a gasp when he the scene before him.

It was a bathroom. The bathtub was overflowing, for the faucet was running and the drain was plugged, explaining the water all over the floor. Standing in front of the mirror, leaning on the sink and facing away from Goby was a boy. He appeared to be about 14 or 15 years old. Despite the age difference, Goby recognized him right off of the bat.

"Nonny?"

He didn't react.

Goby turned to Deema, who had followed him down the hallway and was standing behind him.

"What's he doing?" He asked her.

She nodded to the bathroom, "Just watch."

He turned back and looked at his young friend's back, who didn't seem to be doing anything interesting besides flooding his house for no apparent reason.

"It's my fault..." The red headed boy murmured, his voice weak and hoarse, "I could've saved her..."

"Is he talking about you?" Goby asked Deema, and she nodded.

"This is about a year after the last event that you seen." She explained, "Ever since then, Nonny has convinced himself that my death was his fault. He believes that he didn't do everything that he could to save me, therefore, in his mind, he's the one to blame. He's basically driven himself insane."

Nonny pushed himself off of the sink, and looked at himself in the mirror. Although his back was to Goby, he could see his reflection. There were dark circles under his eyes, signifying that he most likely hadn't slept in days. His cheeks were drenched in tears, showing that he'd been crying. His face looked oddly pale, even for him. It was kind of like how a person looked when they'd lost a lot of blood. That's when Goby finally understood.

Nonny was bleeding.

Blood was dripping down his arms, and drops sprinkled the floor around him, and small pools had formed on the sink where he'd just been leaning. Goby choked back a sob when he noticed where the blood was coming from.

"Oh my god." He breathed, "He slit his wrists."

"He couldn't take it anymore." Deema sighed, "It finally drove him over the edge."

Nonny staggered backwards, obviously becoming more and more light headed from the blood lost.

"Is someone going to help him?" Goby asked desperately, not wanting his friend to have this fate, despite knowing that none of this was actually real.

"I don't need help." Nonny answered.

Goby gasped and took a step back, "You can hear me?"

"Of course I can hear you." Nonny replied in a 'no dip, Sherlock' kind of tone, "After all, it IS your fault that I'm like this."

"How is this my fault?" He asked, starting to shake in fear, not knowing what was going to happen.

Nonny slowly turned, and looked Goby dead in the eyes. He'd never seen such a horrifying look on his friend's face.

"YOU'RE the one who wasn't there for her." The ginger explained in a cold tone, "YOU'RE the one who made that damn wish, and couldn't be there for her that night on the bridge. And now she's dead because of you."

Goby had never heard Nonny swear before.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Goby exclaimed, "She was going to die anyway!"

"EVERYONE DIES EVENTUALLY." Nonny screamed, raising his voice higher than Goby had ever heard.

"YOU AREN'T REAL." Goby screamed back, "NONE OF THIS IS REAL. HER DEATH WAS NOT MY FAULT, BECAUSE I WASN'T EVEN ALIVE FOR IT TO BE MY FAULT."

"What about her real death?" Nonny whispered, "Was that your fault?"

"What is wrong with you?" Goby asked, not even trying to fight the tears, "This isn't the Nonny that I know."

"Remember what you said?" He asked, smiling wickedly, "I'm not real."

Goby stared at him. He wasn't real. His words shouldn't have bothered him, but they did. He turned to the hallway, only to see that Deema had disappeared once again.

"Don't worry about her." Nonny spoke, "She won't help you. This is your battle."

Goby turned back to his friend, and shook his head, "What do you want from me?"

Nonny also shook his head, "I don't want anything. It's what SHE wants."

Goby just stared at him, not comprehending what he was trying to say.

"She wants you to admit the truth." He explained, "Which you basically already did. You just don't realize it."

"I don't understand." Goby sighed, desperate to just be able to leave that horrible place, and go home.

"Recall what you literally just said to me." Nonny explained, suddenly becoming much more calm than he had moments before, "When I blamed everything on you."

Goby understood now. Deema had been trying to get him to admit something that he knew was true. She needed him to know the truth. And now he knew.

He grabbed the chain that hung around his neck, and looked down at the ring as the diamonds seemed to sparkle brighter than ever. He sighed and closed his fingers around the small piece of jewelry, gently closing his eyes. He spoke the words that his love had been longing to hear.

"Her death wasn't my fault."

When he opened his eyes, everything was different. He was finally standing back in his bedroom, but Deema was nowhere to be seen. He was alone. Everything was exactly as it had been when he'd left. Except for one thing: he now knew the truth. He was finally at peace with himself, because he knew the truth. The spirit of his dead lover had taken him places he'd never wanted to go, but she did it do make him realize that what had happened to her was in fact not his fault. But other than that, it was almost as if all of that horribleness had never happened...

Had it happened?


End file.
